


Uncle Clark

by Onlymostydead



Series: Fictober 2019 [15]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Temporary Canon Character Death, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymostydead/pseuds/Onlymostydead
Summary: When Batman brings in a dangerous vigilante from Gotham to the Watchtower for information on a case, everyone is expecting disaster... But not quite the disaster that follows when he calls back on an old nickname.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Clark Kent, background Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Series: Fictober 2019 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1501937
Comments: 4
Kudos: 341





	Uncle Clark

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober day 20. Someone suggested this a long time ago, I don't know who, so if you requested Jason calling Superman Uncle Clark in front of the Justice League and them losing their minds, this is it.

The watchtower couldn't have taken a more freeze frame moment. The Red Hood - a dangerous Gotham vigilante with very different rules than Batman when it came to things like, oh, I don't know, murder - was here on a very, very special circumstance anyway. If it weren't for the case, something very complicated involving drugs, crocodiles, and the Gotham city sewer system, he wouldn't be here the first place. Everyone was on edge to begin with, seeing him here, acting calm as could be, like a smug house cat who had tricked his owner into letting him up onto the countertop where he wasn't normally allowed to be. And what he would say later wouldn't help.

But for starters, Hal didn't like it one bit. He did like seeing Batman looking so exasperated; this Red Hood apparently did a good job of riling him up, which wasn't easy, but other that that? It was tedious work. Watching him move, pace, trail his fingers across the backs of the various Gotham vigilantes backs...

It was bad. It was obvious that this was a guy they had less control of than they thought. He had control of the room, a captive audience right where he wanted them. It didn't matter that his audience consisted of some of the most powerful people on the planet, and they had no evidence this guy was even meta human. Something wasn't right.

They were missing a piece of information. They had to be.

Of course, Hal still wasn't worried one bit. The guy was in a room with the whole fucking Justice a League, for pete's sake, even if he wanted to be. There was no way he could get away with shit. But at the same time, was he giving accurate information? Was his intel really going to be valid, or did his little vendetta against Batman mean that he was going to sabotage the whole thing? Was that why he was so smug?

Superman seemed to get that idea. He hadn't made his discomfort with the criminal as obvious as many members of the league - a few hands rested on weapons, even - but a frown pulled down at his lips, arms crossed. Finally, after a particularly bold claim about a mob boss, he opened his mouth.

"I don't want to shade any doubt over you, but how can we be completely guaranteed in the fact that your information is correct?" Superman asked in that booming voice that most criminals shrank away from, but-

Red hood turned around slowly, rolling his head as he turned to look at him. "What, Uncle Clark, you don't trust me anymore?"

And that's when everyone froze. Freeze frame. Uncle Clark? 

Was Superman his... Uncle? Also, how did he know Superman's real identity as Clark Kent? Was this guy a mind reader? Did he have more intel than they thought, and in different areas?

Was he actually Kryptonian?

Just who was the Red Hood, really?

Does that mean Clark has a brother?

Superman swallowed, opening his mouth to speak, but Batman beat him to it. "Red Hood, please keep this professional."

"Or what, old man?" He laughed, a rough kind of chuckle that made Hal think that he smoked.

Then again, everyone in Gotham smokes, don't they? It's a miracle that they don't have to interrupt official League business for Batman needing a cigarette. Just the image had a smile pulling twitching at his lip, though. As if the guy had to get any edgier, he had to imagine him on a smoke break in an alley, like he was a jaded detective in a peacoat with the collar turned up instead of, you know, Batman.

But what was the difference, really? 

Speaking of which, Batman gave Red Hood a pointed glare, to which he raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. I've been playing so nice so far, though. I mean-"

Superman blinked, his eyes wide, jaw dropping open. "Wait. Jason!?"

The room went dead silent. Who was Jason? Was that Clark's apparent nephew? Was this a joke? Who was this guy? What exactly was going on, and why did the name seem oddly familiar?

Everyone else seemed to be sharing the same confused looks on their faces as he was, except...

The Bats. Who looked oddly guilty.

And Red Hood, whose body language betrayed only that he was eating this up.

Jason. Where has he heard that name before? Who was Jason?

Diana gasped. "Is it truly you?"

Oh, so she had figured it out, too. Hal kept wracking his brain, trying to remember. Jason, Jason, Jason...

"The one and only." Red Hood flashed finger guns. "What, did you all miss me?" 

"I thought you were dead." Clark glanced between Bruce and Red Hood, waiting for an explanation.

Hal hoped, for his own sake, that one of them would give one. Unfortunately, neither seemed particularly inclined.

"I did." He shrugged. "But I'm back now, better than ever, right?"

"Debatable." Robin muttered under his breath; Red Hood smacked the back of his head.

"Shut up, Replacement."

Replacement?

"How..."

"Look, don't ask questions you aren't prepared to get the answer to, alright?" Red Hood - Jason, apparently, put a fist down on the table. "After all, we're all being professionals here, aren't we Boss?"

Boss?

Batman rolled his eyes, his frown broadening ever so slightly, but other than that not responding. 

Calling Batman "Boss" was odd. And Robin "Replacement." The only person who he could think of who had done that, or would do that, was... Oh wait.

The second Robin, after Dick. Jason. That made sense why he was so comfortable here, with the League, with Clark, why he knew his secret identity, all of it.

What it did not explain was how he died and came back. Allegedly. Because that was something that did happen once in a while, but it was usually, uh, not great. Especially when your body was that messed up, It kind of left people messed up permanently.  
But that was what he had said, wasn't it? "Look, don't ask questions you aren't prepared to get the answer to, alright?" Whatever happened wasn't his business, but... 

The tension in the room was now palpable, even more than before. Instead of wondering what his game is, though, everyone wondered if he was even the same kid they knew so long ago? What happened to bring him back from such a grisly murder? 

And Batman's question, no doubt: is anyone else still paying attention?

Because Superman wasn't, that was for sure. All of his attention was focused on Red Hood, looking at him like he was still looking at the tiny little Robin that Batman had brought in so long ago. 

But Batman cleared his thought, and the information from Red Hood continued.

***

"Jason?" 

He should have known that Clark would try to talk to him. After all, what else could he expect? After pulling a stunt like that, calling him Uncle Clark like he used to...

But he couldn't help it.

He couldn't stand to be there, talking to them like he was some sort of villain who just happened to be more amicable than the rest. To be giving them information while they glared uncertainly, to watch as they wondered if he was a threat, if he would try something. He knew too much about each of these people to let that happen and do nothing about it.

It was stupid. To call back on the past like that. All it did was confuse them more, make them wonder who he was and what he was doing and probably all sorts of other implications, while Boss and Replacement and the rest of the Gotham crew looked at him with stares somewhere between shock and disappointment.

Disappointment. Like these people weren't ones that he loved too, once. Like he hadn't looked up to Wonder Woman with the idolization of a straight up fanboy, trying to know everything about this incredible heroine who never attacked until she tried to solve something peacefully.

Sure, he had a hard time with that, especially when he didn't think that people deserved that hand outstretched in lieu of a fist to the face, but he still wanted to be more like her. So seeing that careful look in her eyes, hand not on her lasso but ready, poised in case of an attack...

And Clark. Uncle Clark, he had started to call him after a while, when he didn't want to call him dad or anything like that because it wouldn't be right, but he was one of those figures so strongly that he had to be family of some sort-

So he became an uncle. Because anyone can be an uncle, right? Doesn't really matter than much.

He loved the nickname, though. Any time he called him "Uncle Clark" he beamed with such pride it was almost embarrassing, but Jason didn't mind. He had just been happy to spend time with Superman, the Superman, who wanted to listen to him and do dumb things and talk about theoretical battles that wouldn't actually be possible, laughing at nonsensical outcomes. 

Uncle Clark, who was looking at him like a dangerous criminal. Who was looking at him like he could be up to anything, and someone could need to detain him, eyes never wavering from him, lips pursed in that way they did when he was thinking, or considering ice breath-

And that wasn't what he was. That wasn't who he was. He was one of the good guys, doing good things for the city of Gotham, just using different methods than Boss did. Hell, most of the Justice League had killed at one point or another, he didn't know why they were acting so high and mighty about thing whole thing. 

That's probably how Boss framed him. As a bad guy. As a killer. As a monster, as a murder, as a-

"Hey, kid, you okay?"

Of course it was him. Of course. 

Jason didn't turn around, still just staring out the Watchtower window, out at the galaxies and planets spinning beyond. "Hey, Uncle Clark."

"I'm serious, Jason. How've you been doing? You doing alright?" He took a few steps forward, boots click clacking against the hard floor, the sound echoing in Jason's head.

"I don't know, really. Haven't been sleeping all that well. Boss is pissed off at me. Apparently all he bothered to tell the League about me's that I'm dangerous."

Clark sighed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "He probably doesn't mean to be... You know he's just trying to look out for everyone else, and he lets people fall by the wayside when he gets tunnel vision."

Jason swallowed. "I know."

"Still though," The hand turned into an arm wrapped around his shoulders. "It's hard to deal with that kind of thing. You doing okay?"

"I don't give a damn what he thinks of me."

Clark didn't have to say that wasn't true; he just ignored it. "Just telling us that you were dangerous?"

"Treating me like a fucking villain? I'm out here doing the same thing as all of you, you know." He gave a bitter chuckle. "Doesn't matter to him, though. All he sees is a murderer."

"I'm sure you both have your reasons, and you'll have to talk about it at some point, but for now... I'm just glad you're alive."

Jason snorted. "Same."

"And you finally got a costume with pants, I see." Clark laughed. "You always used to talk about how cold patrol was."

"Gotham's fucking freezing in the winter. Sure, it was Dickie's costume, but couldn't he've but in a pair of tights? Leggings? Or at the very least, I could've. Don't know why I didn't."

Clark didn't say it was hero worship, but it was clear to both of them that's what it was. Jason had been obsessed with Dick on some level, and giving him his costume... He wouldn't have dreamed of changing any part. Anything that could have made Dick angry with him was a huge "No."

And yet, here they were. Sure, he fucked up a few times. Stabbed replacement. Tried to kill Boss one too many times for it to have been an accident. But those were all...

Villainous.

No, that was family shit. Personal. Everyone had things they did with their family that could be considered crimes. Assault, theft- the list could go on. He wasn't a villain. And besides, he regretted the shit with Replacement... Even if he didn't like him much.

But needless to say, he and Dick didn't exactly see eye to eye much these days.

"Least Replacement's got pants now, too." Jason scoffed. "Boss finally saw his mistake at letting an eight year old design a crime fighting costume."

"Dick still stands by that costume, you know." Clark pointed out. "It's really not bad for what it was."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know."

"And... Replacement?" He gave him a confused look. "You mean Tim?"

"Yeah, him. New kid, Replacement, Tim, any of them. That's what he is, isn't he? The next chapter in Bruce's crazy addiction to taking in kids he can't really take care of?" Jason scowled at the floor. "I know I'm wrong to take it out on him. I've thought it out, I've dealt with it, even talked to him. Doesn't mean I like any of it. Bruce is a selfish bastard, and he just keeps using vulnerable people to get what he wants." 

Clark could've pointed out how wrong that was, and he knew that. But he didn't, and for that, Jason appreciated him. Right now he was just bitter, and angry, and irritated with this whole thing and how they looked at him the same way Bruce did when he thought he killed that guy all those years ago.

Like he was dangerous.

Like he was a villain.

Like they had to be careful about what he would do next.

"I don't know, Uncle Clark." He sighed, letting his shoulders droop. "I'm just tired. Tired of all this shit."

"Yeah, I think we all feel that way sometimes." Clark reassured him, rubbing slow circles on his shoulder. "But you've always got to keep sight of what's important. If that changes, than reflect that, but... Don't lose out on family just because things are hard right now."

"Think I just need a break. They're all trying to get all up in my life." Jason leaned his head over onto Clark's shoulder. "I need to get your number again, Uncle Clark. You don't give me advice unless I actually want it. Forgot how nice it is to vent to you."

"I hope we can talk other times, too."

Jason laughed. "Of course, idiot. How's the farm?"

"It's doing just as well as ever. The cows miss you." He smiled. "And Ma and Pa are doing well, too. Ma broke her hip last year, but she's recovering just fine."

"That's good to hear. You and Lois still...?"

"Yep. Still going strong." Clark laughed. "She jokes that one of these days she'll learn better and walk out on me, but-"

"But she's always done that." Jason pointed out. "And you know her better than that."

"Yeah..." He sighed, that smile still tugging at his face. "I'm guessing you don't want to talk about how thinks we're after you-"

"No. I don't."

He had heard enough about how thinks we're after he died. How Boss- Bruce- Batman? Whatever the hell he could call him these days, how he fell apart after he died, how the family went back to leaning on each other, Replacement coming in to save Bruce from his spiral and Dick coming in when he stopped acting crazy. 

Gotham was a mess. The family was a mess. The Justice League was a mess because Batman was a mess and the little kid who used to visit and steal the donuts Martian Manhunter brought was suddenly dead. Beaten to death with a crowbar, blown half to hell when he-

"Hey, we don't half to talk about it." Clark rubbed gentle circles into his shoulder, keeping the pressure light, but steady. "Don't know what happened about talking about other thinks there, sorry about that."

Steady. That's what he needed about now. Everything had been in turmoil for a little too long, here. It had been too long since he had been here, since he had seen his Uncle Clark, since he had gotten one of his hugs-

When was the last time he got a hug at all? 

Was it when Bruce first realized he was alive? Was that really it? Was he that touch starved, and was that why he was nearly choking on his emotion as Clark gently held him with his arm around his shoulder?

"Hey, Uncle Clark?"

"Yes, Jason?"

"Can I have a hug?" He asked, suddenly feeling a little sheepish.

It was odd, now. He was twenty, almost twenty one, not fifteen anymore. Even though a lot of that time felt fake, and that part of childhood felt ripped from him, and he missed out on though teenaged years-

"Of course, Jason." Clark breathed, pulling him into his arms. "Come here."

And it was odd. They were closer to the same height, now, Jason only being a few inches shorter. He wasn't a tiny, scrawny little kid anymore. He wasn't the Robin that everyone laughed at when he cracked jokes at Green Arrow's goatee. He was just... Jason. Red Hood. Maybe a villain to some of them, but he couldn't change that.

He couldn't change how they saw him. But at least he knew his Uncle Clark just saw him as Jason. He wouldn't ask him questions, if he didn't want to answer them. He wouldn't pry. And right now...

Right now he would just hug him, because that's what he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at Supertinybats or Supertinywords!
> 
> DC requests are closed, but BNHA/Botw are open!
> 
> Comments are love <3


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